


Castiel's Human Weakness?

by DeadlyKittenKay (PrettyBlueIz)



Series: Tumblr prompts [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel's female vessel - Freeform, Going back in time, Inktober With The Bunker Challenge, M/M, castiel has pop culture knowledge, prompt - victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12490572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBlueIz/pseuds/DeadlyKittenKay
Summary: How is Dean able to convince Castiel not to follow through with Ishim's plan?





	Castiel's Human Weakness?

**Author's Note:**

> So this is for letter's from the bunkers inktober challenge. I'm a bit behind but this is for "Victorian Era"
> 
> Again all errors are my own lol

Dean found himself outside of a huge Victorian style home. What the hell he was doing here, he had no idea. The last thing he had remembered was he and Cas were on a hunt and suddenly he’s here.   
  
“Cas!” Dean called out, hoping to have the angel suddenly appear like he normally does. He waits for a beat before he starts to pray.  
  
“I pray to thee, Castiel... I don’t know where you sent me you son of a bitch but you need to get here pronto.”   
  
At the end of his prayer, he cracks an eye open to find a woman staring at him. She wearing a steel blue dress that drags in the mud at her feet and has three black buttons along the side of her neck. Over that she is wearing a tan waistcoat and her hair is pinned up under a matching bluebonnet.   
  
The way she stares at Dean sends a shiver down his spine. Her eyes are wide and familiar and so is the way she tilts her head.   
  
“Do I know you?” She asked plainly, clearly judging Dean from the way her eyes roam over him.  
  
“Uh, no?” He replied then snaps his fingers making the woman jump. “You haven’t seen a guy around here. Dark hair, about yay-” he holds his hand just to his eyebrows. “High. Wears a knee length coat that’s actually the same color as yours.”  
  
“A riding coat?” She asks.   
  
“Uh no, Cas wears a trench coat.” Dean supplied, his eyebrows jumping when he noticed the woman flinch at Cas’ name.  
  
“What did you say your friend’s name was?” She asked.  
  
“Uh, Cas… Castiel.”  
  
“Impossible,” she says as she rolls her shoulders back to stand straighter.  
  
“No. Not really.” Dean knows he sounds like a child but who does this lady think she is?!   
  
“Yes, it is. Because you can't possibly know Castiel.” She huffed indignantly and pulled up the front of her skirt to start walking. “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is not funny.”  
  
“I’m not funny?” Dean practically shouted. “I’m not trying to be funny, lady. All I’m trying to do is find my damned friend so that he can send me home!”  
  
“Castiel?” A male voice called out from behind, making the woman’s eyes look in that direction before Dean spun around to see who was talking. “Is this, mud monkey giving you problems?” The man asked and he looked eerily familiar to Dean. Dean just couldn’t place where he knew him from.  
  
“I’m not sure, Ishim,” Dean gapes at her as she answers. “He claims to know me.”  
  
“Cas?” Dean squeaked out, his eyes clearly trying to take in Castiel’s female vessel.  
  
“Why do you insist on calling me that?!”   
  
“How do you know my friend?” Ishim asked, grabbing Dean’s arm to force his attention to Ishim.  
  
“One at a time, Jesus!” Dean pulled his arm from Ishim and glares at the man. “I know Castiel because he saved my ass from Hell. Only know him in his vessel Jimmy Novak.”  
  
“The Novak line is a line long filled with devoted and faithful blood.” Female Cas nods. “This vessel is that of Claire Mae Novak.”  
  
Dean huffs a laugh. “Wow, you really have a type.”  
  
“What year are you from?” Cas asks, the female’s head tilting in such a way that everything seems too familiar and as if the question had happened before.  
  
“Two-thousand-seventeen…” Dean paused and glanced at the clothes Castiel and Ishim where both wearing. “What time is it now?”  
  
“Nineteen hundred,” Castiel said proudly.  
  
“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered and rubbed at his temple. “Cas… Castiel,” he placed his hand on her shoulder. “You gotta help me. Why would you send me back to the Victorian ages?”  
  
Wide blue eyes blinked at him in shock before stepping back to remove Dean’s hand. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“Come, Castiel. We have a Nephilim to take care off.” Ishim said suddenly, putting his arm around Castiel’s waist and started to lead her off.  
  
Dean’s head felt as if he had been hit by a train as a memory of Castiel and Ishim telling him the story of Lilly Sunder’s child. He remembered how Lilly explained to him and Sam that her daughter was not born to an angelic father, only raised by one as she herself tried to learn all she could about angels.  
  
Ishim’s lie killed nearly everyone but Cas.   
  
Even now Cas awaits his judgment for what he had done that day.  
  
“Wait!” Dean called out. He could see the muscle in Ishim’s jaw clench as Castiel turned to face him.  
  
“Cas, listen to me,” Dean stepped closer. “You once said that you and I have a profound bound. And when Sammy asked if your grace would recognize my soul, you admitted it would.”  
  
Castiel tilted her head and nodded for him to continue.  
  
“I know this version of you… you don’t know me from some strange man. And you once said that I lack faith.” Dean held his hand out, hoping to Chuck that Cas would understand him. “And you’re right. I did lack it. Until I met you.” He took a deep breath when the dainty hand of Cas’ vessel laid upon his. “Have faith in me, Cas… Know that I mean it when I say that Ishim is a liar.”  
  
“How dare you!” Ishim barked out but Dean ignored it as he shrugged out of his over shirt. He lifted the sleeve to his left arm.  
  
“Tell me you don’t know me,” he challenged.  
  
Castiel bit her lower lip before removing the glove from her hand. Once her hand was free she hesitantly placed her hand upon his bicep where Castiel’s own handprint used to lay, seared into Dean’s flesh. Dean could hear the intake of breath from Castiel as his own skin tingled at the touch.  
  
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, her blue eyes igniting like his Cas’ would showing his power. His grace.   
  
“Believe me, Cas. Ishim is lying. He’s jealous and wants to hurt Lilly in the way she hurt him.”  
  
“Why?” Castiel asked softly, moving closer to Dean.  
  
“Because they were like us once,” Dean admitted softly.  
  
“Do not believe-” Ishim started but was tossed back with a push of grace from the hand Castiel did not have upon Dean.  
  
“Like us?” Castiel asked as if she was never interrupted.  
  
“He calls it your human weakness. They were in love.”  
  
“We are in love?” Castiel asked and as Dean was about to respond the world went black.

 

* * *

  
  
Dean woke up in his bed, stretching like a cat in the sun and smiled over at Castiel who was leaning against the headboard, watching TV.  
  
Dean watches the angel’s profile. A mess of dark brown hair, strong angular jaw covered in scruff. He’s wearing jeans and one of Dean’s old shirts and looks... human.  
  
 _Wait!_  
  
Dean jolts up out of bed, gaping at Castiel.   
  
“What the hell, Cas?!” Dean throws his hands up in frustration.  
  
Castiel tilts his head, still engaged in the show he’s watching. “Just a moment.”  
  
Dean growls and slaps the TV off. He wants to laugh at the pout that Castiel gives him but he’s too messed up over what he thinks just happened.  
  
“Explain yourself! Why did you send me to the past?”  
  
Castiel shakes his head. “That wasn’t me.”  
  
“Nineteen hundred? Nice rack, pretty dress? Hung out with Ishim?”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes. “No, that was me, but I didn’t send you there.”  
  
Dean deflates, his shoulders slumping. “Then who?”  
  
Castiel shrugs.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Again Castiel shrugs. “I imagine it was to keep you safe.”  
  
“And you?” He asked weakly.  
  
“I didn’t kill the little girl.”  
  
“I changed history?” Dean sat next to Castiel. “Isn’t that bad?”  
  
Castiel chuckled. “Only if you’re Doc Brown or Doctor Who. You helped correct a wrong.”  
  
“Oh.” Dean looked down at his hands, unsure what else to say.  
  
Castiel cleared his throat and moved to sit properly on the bed. “For what it’s worth. I don’t see you as a weakness. My feelings for you strengthen me, Dean. And knowing that you will someday feel the same… It gives me hope.”  
  
Dean gives Castiel a small smile. “I like this vessel better,” he says before groaning and throwing himself back onto the bed.  
  
“Good. We can work with that.”  
  
Dean wants to give Castiel the declaration he deserves but that’s not his way of doing things. So instead he shows Castiel that if he ever had faith in something, it was him.


End file.
